Sam Saves the Day
by Russockshitha
Summary: An alternate history to how Sauron's Ring is destroyed that involves "lava-zits" and Sam and Frodo riding on the back of one of the Nazguls' winged mounts.


Sam Saves the Day

A _Lord of the Rings _Fan Fiction by I. M. Hayabusa

_Last revised 1 March 2011_

Frodo and Sam stumbled up the steep, stone strewn flank of Orodruin, or Mount Doom. The ash was heavy in the air, and burned their parched throats. They had already wrung the last of their water from their parched water skins long ago. Sam, being a good servant, had made sure that Frodo had received that last drop. They had been without food for even longer. What remained of their food had fallen into a great ravine when the strap on Sam's pack snapped suddenly. Sleep had also evaded the two hobbits for so long that neither could remember what it was to be well rested. The fear of being found by a rowdy band of orcs, or the bone chilling Nazgul played tricks with their minds and sent nightmares into their scattered dreams. Frodo felt these effects the most strongly, and awoke from what sparse sleep he could manage with echoing screams that Sam had to quickly stifle.

Frodo grew weary. His feet dragged in the loose obsidian gravel like lead weights, scattering plumes of dark ash as he trudged on. With every step, Sauron's ring grew heavier as though trying to drag Frodo to a dead stop. It pulled on his already bowed and wearied neck. The scorching ash that filled the air suffocated him, making each breath to be more difficult and painful than the last. Frodo could feel his heart being crushed painfully by his heavy, filth smeared body. The feeling filled him with such an empty, hopeless desperation that Frodo was tempted to escape the pain through death. Frodo collapsed.

Sam, who was nearly as tired as his master, saw Frodo collapse weakly onto the obsidian flank of Orodruin with a large billow of ash.

"Come on, Master Frodo, it is just a bit further. I know you can make it," Sam encouraged. He stood looking down, his breath wheezing through a parched mouth.

"No, Sam," Frodo answered, his voice weak and empty, "I cannot go any further. It was all in vain."

"Don't say such things, Master Frodo!" Sam chided. "We can't give up now."

"But it's useless," Frodo sobbed. "Don't you see? The Nazgul . . . the _Eye_ will find us. _He _will see us and send the Nazgul to take the Ring. We are powerless to stop him."

"No he won't, Master Frodo, because soon the Ring will be destroyed! Now, come on! You've got to get up." Sam took a step forward, waving his arms upward in a gesture intended to encourage Frodo to rise.

"It's all useless . . ." Frodo remained limp and broken on the mountain's side.

Sam let out a sigh of frustration and disgust. Without warning, he stomped over to Frodo, and dragged Frodo's limp form over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. Stomping up the mountain side with Frodo on his shoulder, Sam barely noticed his own body's fatigue until he tripped and fell flat on his face. Frodo tumbled off Sam like a ragdoll, slamming onto the unforgiving rock so hard he lost his weak breath for a moment. Groaning, Sam looked up to find himself before an opening in the black rock that was alight with fire glow.

Sam rubbed his head as he sat up. He studied the opening, and saw that the archway that framed it was carved in the resemblance of a gaping monster's maw. The skulls of several animals and sentient races hung ghoulishly on long rough strings to either side of the jagged stone teeth like a ward against intruders.

Getting up with a great deal of groaning Sam said, "This must be the place." He looked down at Frodo, who still lay limp as a corpse.

"Master Frodo!" Sam quickly hobbled over to Frodo's side. "Are you all right?"

Frodo grunted weakly, having regained his breath.

"Good," Sam replied. "Now, can you get up?"

Frodo remained limp and silent, brooding in his on misery and hopelessness.

Sighing, Sam continued, "You really are hopeless, aren't you?" With that, Sam heaved Frodo back onto his shoulder, and passed through the gaping maw of Orodruin.

Beyond the tunnel was a long and narrow tongue of charred rock that jut out over the bubbling lava beneath. Sam realized that they had successfully made it to the heart of Orodruin, the very place the One Ring had been forged. Limping heavily under Frodo's weight, Sam hobbled to the end of the stone tongue, and flopped down with exhaustion. He was careful to set Frodo down gently beside himself.

Frodo sat in silence. He appeared conscious, but his bleary and empty gaze clearly indicated otherwise. Frodo watched the glowing lava with a strange and distant fascination. Every time a bubble swelled up he imagined it to be a zit. The lava-zits would swell up and obtain a thin coating of darker cooling rock at their crests. The pressure would build, and cause the solidifying mound to burst open with a magnificent spray of glowing lava, and a hollow 'pop.' Frodo decided in that moment that the event was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. He could keep on watching it for hours on end. _Pop, pop, pop. _The lava-zits swelled and burst.

"Master Frodo?" Sam inquired, concern etched into his face. "Aren't you going to drop the Ring into the fire so we can get out of here and go home? The whole of Middle-earth is counting on us, ya'know."

The word 'Ring' broke into Frodo's mindless daze like a shock of cold water. "What did you say, Sam?" Frodo's thoughts slowly reordered themselves from their lava-zit trance.

"I said –" Sam started.

"NO! Stupid hobbitses, you must not destroy the Precious!" Gollum leaped out from his hiding place behind some jagged rocks with all the ferocity and lust of a rabid wolf. As he approached the two hobbits he reached out his hand for the chain around Frodo's neck that held the Ring. Gollum squealed victory as his fingertips brushed up against the Ring's glimmering gold circumference. But his inertia was too great, and Gollum slid right between Frodo and Sam. His fingers glanced harmlessly against Frodo's collar bone, and he fell off the edge of the stone tongue into the bubbling lava below. Gollum's blood curdling screech echoed along Orodruin's deaf stone walls, then ended abruptly with a sickening gurgle.

The sound of Gollum's death cry reverberated up Orodruin's chimney and across the Plateau of Gorgoroth. Sauron, who had been too preoccupied with Gondor's hopeless assault at the Black Gates to notice that his Ring was right under his gaze, swung his single enormous, fire-flecked eye to gaze at Orodruin. Sauron glared from Barad Dûr's peak with rage and fear at Frodo and Sam like a one eyed devil-cat who has just been tricked.

The Nazgul, who were in Minas Morgûl moping over the loss their leader, the Witch King, responded to their master's call. Writhing frantically about in their haste, they headed to their foul and leathery mounts. One wraith, who was particularly flustered, forgot to unhood his mount before taking off, and crashed into the sharp spires of Ephel Duath, the Mountains of Shadow. The remaining seven milled about frantically in the air for a bit before shooting off to Orodruin, screeching.

Above Orodruin's churning fire, Frodo and Sam sat stunned at Gollum's sudden and failed attempt at the Ring. They both looked dumbly into the seething lava below where Orodruin had swallowed Gollum. Their shock was brief lived, for Sauron's attention turned upon them. Frodo and Sam found themselves gripped in the fear of Sauron's gaze. For one long moment they both sat trembling. The air was thick with Sauron's twisted anger and hate. They felt his great Eye look at them and through them. They felt naked and prone even as the thick stone of Orodruin encased them. It was the cry of the Nazgul that awoke them from their trance.

"Quick, Frodo, the Ring!" Sam screamed in near panic. "Throw the Ring into the fire!"

In response to Sam's urgency, Frodo grasped at the Ring and tore it from its chain. Frodo was about to cast the Ring into the churning lava below, but stopped. Opening his outstretched hand, palm upward, he drew the Ring back towards himself. The Ring whispered to him, promising him power and glory if only he would spare it. He could defeat Sauron, and dominate all of Middle-earth. He would never have to suffer again. Frodo grasped the Ring between the forefinger and thumb of his other hand, and stood up. Clearer than a new dawn Frodo proclaimed: "I will not destroy the Ring. It will serve me, and power me in my new dominion over all of Middle-earth!"

Sam stared blankly at Frodo for a long moment as his words sunk in. Slowly, Sam's face changed from that of a bedraggled gardener to that of an enraged lion. "YOU IDIOT! Frodo, you are _not _about to waste all that time and effort _everyone _put into getting you to this mountain. THROW THE RING INTO THE FIRE!" Sam wiped his arm in the direction of the bubbling and hissing lava.

Frodo simply screwed up his face and said, "NO! I won't."

At that moment, the swiftest of the Nazgul swooped down on his grotesque mount and grabbed the back of Frodo's collar with his cold armored hand. Flopping Frodo unceremoniously across the bird's spiny neck, the Nazgul ascended Orodruin's chimney. The leathery bird barely had room to move in Orodruin's hot belly. It thrashed and gurgled its barbed-beaked and ram horned head in its disgust. One of its wings extended down close to the scorching lava below, and was burned by the heat. In pain, the bird opened its needle toothed beak and let forth such a bellowing screech that Orodruin trembled. The winged beast thrashed, nearly bucking both the mounted Nazgul and Frodo. Wiping about its barbed tail, it slammed it hard into Sam's chest and would have knocked him into the churning fire below had Sam not grasped the tail's tip in a tight hug.

The Nazgul finally gained back control of the beast after viciously tugging on the reins, and screeching out commands like a banshee. The Morgulian bird shot up Orodruin's chimney, and into the thick smoky air above. The other Nazgul circled about, then formed around the newly reemerged bird in a protective circle. The screeching group of mounted Nazgul headed straight for Barad Dûr.

Sam still struggled on the Morgulian bird's wiping tail, but with some effort he managed to grasp the tail's spines and crawl up along them like a ladder. With much grunting and grimacing, Sam crawled up behind the Nazgul and drew the wicked orc blade he had taken at the Tower of Cirith Ungol. Making a savage war cry, Sam attacked the unsuspecting Nazgul, stabbing it in the back and kicking it out of the saddle. His hand went icy numb, and the orc blade was torn from it. The Nazgul screamed as it fell to the ground far below.

Without hesitating, Sam took the Morgulian bird's reins in his good hand, and somehow managed to steer it back in the direction of Orodruin. Frodo, still in shock from being scooped up by the Nazgul continued to lie limply on his belly across the bird's long spiny neck. The Ring was still clasped tightly in Frodo's right hand. It was scolding him for letting the wretched fat hobbit ruin everything, but Frodo decided he didn't care anymore.

The Nazgul, ignoring their fallen comrade, drove their birds to attack the hapless one that bore Frodo and Sam. The bird, not wanting to be killed, dove under its attacking fellows. Sam, being unable to control the bird, was very grateful. The Morgulian bird the two hobbits were riding skimmed just above Orodruin's mouth. Its burned wing caught on an updraft the wrong way, causing the bird to wobble. Frodo, who had been debating whether he should put the Ring in his pocket or on his finger for safekeeping, suddenly shifted on the bird's neck, and almost fell off. Frodo reflexively grasped at the bird's spines, and accidentally dropped the Ring. Frodo sadly watched the Ring tumble down into Orodruin's mouth, bounce off a few rocks, and finally plop into the lava below.

There was a sudden burst of Dark Power as the Ring was destroyed. The backlash caused Orodruin to awaken with a burst of angry flame and molten rock. The two hobbits managed to soar past the spewing chimney in time, but three of the Nazgul were not so lucky. They fell burning and screaming with their mounts down the mountain's side. The wave of broken power shot out of Orodruin in a ring that quickly expanded over the Plateau of Gorgoroth. The strong translucent wave caught the three remaining Nazgul on their mounts and the one that had fallen to the ground. At its touch, the Nazgul were vaporized. The chill of their evil and wretched hatred wafted from where they had been in slowly dissipating clouds. The dead Morgulian birds dropped limply from the sky, landing with a hard thud onto the few stray orcs who had crept out from the rocks to watch the spectacle.

The great wave continued outward and struck Barad Dûr square in it middle, causing the misshapen Dark Tower to crumble beneath Sauron's panic stricken eye. As Sauron struck the ground he emanated such a piercing and otherworldly cry that it seemed that the very Earth would split open, and fall into a fire filled Hell beneath. Then Sauron's wraith gathered into a dark cloud and fled into the eastern sky, taking all of its evil with it.

Miraculously, Frodo and Sam's Morgulian bird had only been caught off balance by the oncoming wave. The bird had become disoriented, and instead of flying south to Khand it changed its course northward towards the Black Gates. It gave a snorting croak as it flew, expressing its relief that its cruel masters had been destroyed.

Sam pulled Frodo into the safer position in front of himself on the bird's back. The bird made a long, grunting cry like that of a heron as it felt Frodo and Sam shift. The Sun burst through the dissipating clouds, lighting the scarred land that was Mordor.

"Well," Sam said wearily, "The Ring has been destroyed. We have accomplished what we came here to do." Sam paused and Frodo remained silent. In a suddenly annoyed voice Sam continued, "You aren't still mad about not being able to rule Middle-earth are you?"

"No," Frodo replied distantly, fatigue started to set in. "It was really the Ring that wanted me to do it anyway."

"Really?" Sam replied sarcastically. "You made it seem like you were going against Strider and all of them on your own whim."

Frodo was silent for a bit, then said, "Oh Sam, you must understand that the Ring had a way of getting under your skin, and twisting your thoughts."

Sam remembered Gollum and replied, "I suppose it did."

The two hobbits rode off on the back of the rogue Morgulian bird to the Black Gates and their waiting friends.

* * *

Fanart © R. A. Mills/I. M. Hayabusa

_The Lord of the Rings _© J. R. R. Tolkien


End file.
